


the colors that i can't change

by bravestyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Suicide Attempt, leaves off on a hopeful note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravestyles/pseuds/bravestyles
Summary: Harry has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Louis tries his best to understand.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 37
Kudos: 151





	the colors that i can't change

**Author's Note:**

> title: story of my life - one direction
> 
> so, i wrote this in light of recent events on the internet. D.I.D. is a highly misunderstood disorder and i tried my best to put it into words. those who suffer with this disorder are incredibly strong and do not deserve to have any negativity pointed in their direction. 
> 
> i hope you like it.

-

Loving Harry isn't easy. 

Saying that doesn't make him a bad person. It can't. Louis used to think it made him a terrible person for feeling that way, and then one day he brought it up to Harry,  _ his  _ Harry, and Harry frowned and told him that of course it wasn't easy to love him. 

"It's hard to even be me, Lou," Harry told him. "I can't imagine what it's like to love someone like me. I don't. . . I guess I'm just glad that you do."

And Louis does. So, so much. He loves Harry with everything he has. And that means loving every part of him. Every person in him. 

At first, conceptualizing what it meant for multiple people to be inside of one body was difficult. Louis pretended like he understood, and then something else would happen, or _ someone _ else would happen, and he realized lying to Harry and himself that he understood any of it was hurting them both. Harry's always been patient with Louis about it, when he was in the right mindset to be. He understands that it's not something simple to understand. In the beginning, Louis had a lot of questions, questions that sometimes scared Harry or made everything worse, but they had to be asked and Harry had to try his best to answer them. 

Even now, Louis has questions. It doesn't help that it seems like things with Harry constantly change. Sometimes Louis doesn't use the right terms, or he doesn't get things quite right, but he tries his best. 

Harry is made up of eleven different alters, including himself. Harry is the host, Harry's the main driver, Harry's. . . Harry, except for when he's not. Except for when he's Andrew or Alison or Peter or Meg or Jeremy or whoever else decides to take over the front. That's what Harry calls it: the person who Louis finds himself talking to is the front, and Harry's somewhere else. He's either there, listening and aware, or he's not. And sometimes, he doesn't come back for a little while. 

It's like Louis' living with eleven different roommates in a tiny apartment. And as a gay man, it's. . . odd, he supposes, to being looked at by a female in his  _ boyfriend's _ body. And he knows that's not fair to look at it that way: that's not just Harry's body. It's all of theirs. They're all part of a system, and they all exist within the body that Harry calls his. 

He'll go through this once. It's not that important to know the ins and outs of each alter, but they are important to Harry, so here they are:

Andrew is like a best mate to Louis, in a weird way. He's like a friend, and they do friend things, which doesn't include cuddling or kissing or anything he wants to be doing with his Harry, but it's okay. He doesn't mind spending time with Andrew, and it's mostly because Andrew actually _ likes  _ him. 

Alison doesn't like Louis. Thinks he's too loud, even when he's being quiet. She's not mean to him, she just makes herself scarce whenever she's around. She usually only comes out when Harry's stressed over the smaller things; she's his soother. She tucks Harry away so he can catch his breath. 

Peter is Harry's sexual alter, and that's just. . . Louis doesn't like it when Peter shows up. And that makes him feel awful, because Peter likes Louis and Peter's  _ Harry,  _ except that he isn't. And in the same sense, Louis' beyond grateful for Peter, because Peter is the person who appeared when Harry needed someone to take over during non-consensual sex. He is one of Harry's protectors, one of the ones who shielded Harry from so much pain, and Louis is grateful for it. But Peter likes to try and seduce him, and other people who aren't Louis for that matter, and Louis' had long talks with Harry about what he wants from Louis. He doesn't want Louis to have sex with anyone other than him, which becomes difficult to manage when Peter comes out occasionally during very consensual, very progressed times of sex. 

Peter's funny, though, and he keeps Louis on his toes. 

Meg is one of Harry's little alters. He has two. Meg and Jenny. They're young and they're vulnerable and they need to be looked after closely. Meg is aware of what Harry went through, and calming her down when she's forced to deal with that knowledge is difficult. Jenny has no idea what Harry went through, so she's just a carefree, happy child all of the time. And Harry feels some type of way about his littles -- protective, mostly -- and he doesn't like when Louis talks about them to him, so he doesn't. He just looks after them and protects them, exactly what he promises Harry he'd do. 

Cody is someone Louis is a tad more wary of. He's introverted, and he's skittish, and he mostly appears randomly. The others all serve some sort of purpose, and then there's Cody. He's got an awful habit of scratching. Louis can't figure him out, and he's been around just as long as the others have been. He likes Louis, though. He likes it when Louis talks to him. They're friends. Louis thinks so, anyway.

Courtney is more a fragment, or someone who doesn't come around enough to have been able to develop an entire personality. That's how Louis thinks of it, anyway. He's sure there's something inaccurate about that. She's cool with Louis, other than the fact she's a lesbian who is highly critical of Harry's taste in men. 

James is an angry, distrustful person. He's prickly and he's mean and he is someone who Louis has to try and keep home so he doesn't hurt anyone's feelings. He's not a total dick, it's just. . . he's paranoid, and he's terribly protective of Harry. They all are, in their own ways, but he makes it known when people cross a line. He's one of the ones that come out quickly; the others, Harry slowly fades into them, but with James, it's sometimes immediate. If you cross Harry, even if it's as simple as making a small remark that just barely offends Harry, James makes it known. 

Tries to anyway. Over the years, Harry's calmed him down some. 

Harry has a rough relationship with James. It's important to keep open communication with all the alters within the system, to make them feel needed and important. Harry tells him that, anyway. Louis can't figure out for the life of him what 'open communication' with an alter looks like, but he doesn't have to understand everything. But James hurts people, sometimes. He snaps at Harry's friends and family, and then Harry's the one to take the blame. And when that blame becomes too large of a burden to carry, that's when Mary steps in. 

Mary is Harry's main protector. She's the caretaker, the one who takes care of everything and soothes any fear Harry has. She's like a warm blanket, Harry tells him. She's very kind to Louis. Kind to everyone, really. She's motherly, and she's gentle, and she's there to make every alter feel safe. 

And then there's Jeremy. Jeremy is the persecutor, or the one alter forced to know every bit of Harry's trauma. It's basically his job, handling every single second of pain Harry has had to endure through his life. Jeremy self-sabotages, and he hurts their body, and he's cruel. To everyone, inside of his system and out of it. He's scary. He's almost taken Harry away from Louis on three occasions already. Twice before Louis knew Harry, and once a few years into them meeting. He's vengeful, and it's not hard to understand why. Nobody should have to carry all that weight by themselves. 

Jeremy is hard to work out. It's close to impossible. There's ten others, Louis always thinks, can't they split up who gets to handle what baggage? Why does Jeremy have to handle it all? The only thing good about Jeremy is that he'd never hurt anyone outside of himself, and that's also the worst part about Jeremy. He'll hurt Harry. He'll hurt them all. The minute Jeremy comes to the front, Louis has to be afraid that he'll be the last version of Harry's system that Louis will ever get to see. 

And then there's Harry. Sweet, loving, tormented Harry. He's intelligent, and he's strong, and he's the most fascinating person Louis has ever had the honor in meeting. Aforementioned, he's the host, and he's the one who sticks around the most. He handles the day-to-day stuff, except for when he's too stressed and an alter comes to take over. He's the one Louis spends most of his time with, in the grand scheme of things. Yes, sometimes, when things are rough, he might not see Harry for a few days, but he can handle that. He respects the system Harry's brain has created in an attempt to protect itself. 

Nobody has ever directly told Louis exactly what trauma Harry's gone through, but Louis knows the gist from bits and pieces he's gotten from Harry's mum, Harry, and Harry's alters. It involves multiple grown men, including Harry's father, doing unspeakable things to a very, very young Harry over the course of at least a few years. Jeremy told Louis it started when Harry was one and a half, but Louis can't trust what Jeremy says, and he also doesn't want to. 

Harry was sexually abused as a child, and his brain did it's best to survive it. That's all there is to it, really. Harry's alters formed and came to take away Harry's pain and memories. They protect Harry from having to remember what happened to his body. Harry knows what happened to him now, but there was a time that he had no idea. How can you know something happened to you if you don't remember it?

That's the hardest part for Harry to handle: the blocks of amnesia. When an alter takes over, more often than not, Harry's gone. He's not in the driver's seat, and he's not in the passenger's seat -- he's not even in the fucking car. He's gone, and then he's back, and he has to try and figure out what his alter was doing and why while also trying to remember what he was doing before he was pushed to the back. 

There are times where Harry is exhausted and defeated. There are times where he wants to give up. He can’t, though. Louis couldn’t take losing him. 

-

The first time Louis meets Harry, he's running on two hours of sleep, is dressed in yesterday's clothes, has a drying coffee stain on his shirt, and Harry somehow looks more stressed than Louis is. It's the first year of uni, and they've just been paired up to do a chem lab. Considering Louis' never even noticed Harry before, he's pretty sure he's quiet, so Louis does his best to keep his chattering to a minimum. 

Harry's quiet the entire time they work on their lab together. As quiet as someone working in a pair can be, anyway. He answers Louis' questions and asks certain things when he has to, but he mostly sticks to himself. At one point, towards the end of the lab, Harry's in the middle of a sentence when his eyes start to go a bit glossy and his face goes blank, and he's like that for a few seconds before he blinks and clears his throat and goes back to whatever he was saying, although with more trouble than before. 

Louis doesn't question it. He barely even notices it, to be honest. 

"We can split the lab questions," Harry says, nodding at the paper. "There's twenty. I'll do ten, you'll do ten, and then we can somehow get them to each other before class tomorrow. Sound fair?"

Louis nods. "Yeah. Maybe we can meet up before class? I'm shit at chemistry, and I think you might want to go over my answers before you commit to them."

"Okay," Harry agrees, nodding. "Yeah, um. We can meet at the library at ten? Sound good?" The way he gives Louis a nervous smile makes Louis' stomach flip, and it's not the first time Louis' noticed how attractive he is. Louis' too tired to even bother with flirting though, so he just nods and tells him he'll be there. 

And then Harry doesn't show up. Louis' at the library at nine forty-five, and he sits there panicking for an hour and fifteen minutes as he waits for Harry to get his arse to the library and give him the other half of the answers. He wasn't kidding when he said he was shit at chemistry. Chemistry is literally a foreign language to him, and he's pretty sure half the answers he did last night himself are wrong, and now he's staring at ten other questions that look even more daunting that Louis' half did. He forces himself to fill out some absolute bullshit answers right before class comes, and he's so ready to absolutely tear into Harry when he gets to class, but then Harry's not there, either. 

Harry doesn't come to class until four sessions later, and it's exactly twelve hours after Louis received a failing mark on his lab. And then Harry comes over to him, looking nervous and fiddling with the strap of his backpack with one hand. 

"Did we, um." He clears his throat and shifts his weight on his feet. "Did we ever turn or labs in?"

Louis scoffs at him. "Yeah. Last week."

There's something heartbroken about the look on Harry's face as he looks down at the lab sheet slightly crumpled in his hands, but Louis doesn't care because he failed his own lab that he wouldn't have if Harry would have just come to the library like he said he would.

"Do you think I could still turn mine in?" Harry asks quietly, and Louis isn't mean, he isn't, but he shoots Harry a glare that's mean enough to make Harry flinch. "I'm sorry, Louis."

Louis just shakes his head and looks down at his desk until Harry's shuffling feet disappear out of his sight. 

The next time he has to have anything to do with Harry is an hour after that, when he's being held after class by his professor. Professor Lawrence doesn't say anything until the rest of the class shuffles out, leaving only himself, Louis and a sorry looking Harry left over. 

"You two were lab partners on the last lab, correct?" Professor Lawrence asks, setting down some papers on his desk as he sits. 

They both nod. Louis' fuming with anger, thinking he's about to be shit on for not doing a good job on it and ready to snap at Harry again, and then Harry clears his throat and says, "Yeah. And like I said before, I screwed Louis over as a partner and I -- I just want to have another chance, if that's possible." He drags his fingers over his temples like he has a headache growing there. 

Louis doesn't know it yet, but Harry's gradually dissociating from himself, and he's trying desperately not to switch to an alter right now, which always comes with a giant, painful headache. 

Louis closes his eyes briefly before glancing away. Professor Lawrence is a hard ass; he's not going to care if Harry wants a second chance, and Louis doesn't know why he even bothered asking, or why Louis had to be dragged into this. It's fucking stupid, it's -- 

"Get the write up to me by tomorrow morning, the both of you, and I'll grade that as it is," Professor Lawrence says, and Louis nearly gasps with how shocked he is because Professor Lawrence  _ does not  _ take deadlines lightly. He's in shock, he's pretty sure, and he almost misses the sympathetic look he gives Harry before saying, "I don't want this becoming a habit, Harry. I know you have extenuating circumstances, but my sympathy only goes so far."

Louis glances at Harry, who is nodding with a serious expression on his face and teeth biting into his bottom lip. He feels bad, suddenly. Maybe Harry's mum died or something, maybe he had a good reason for skipping out on Louis, and Louis was completely dickish to him for no reason. 

His guilt worsens as Harry says, "I know, Professor. And just, like. . ." he lets out a breathy laugh. "I'm trying. I'll do better."

Harry and Louis walk out of the classroom, and when Louis turns to look at Harry once they get into the hallway, Harry's rubbing at his temple again, looking pained. 

"Can we meet up a little later?" Harry asks. "I just, like. At five, or something? Can we?"

"Yeah, mate. No problem. Just give me your number this time, alright? So I know where you are if you don't show." He doesn't say it unkindly, but he's not going to get screwed over by Harry again. He regrets it a bit as Harry looks lost for a moment, like he doesn't know his phone number or something. 

Just as he's about to ask if he's alright, Harry suddenly nods and gets out a piece of paper and pen before writing his number out for Louis. 

"I have to go," Harry says quickly, handing Louis the paper. His hands Louis the paper, and his hands are shaking slightly, and then he's walking away and turning down a hallway. 

At five, Louis texts Harry to ask if he should go down to the library now. Louis dorms at campus, so the walk isn't all that far. 

Harry responds fifteen minutes later.  _ Can we do six?  _

And then he pushes it back to seven. And then to seven-thirty. And then he asks if they can do eight, and Louis is finally fed up and texts him,  _ Mate it'll take like a half hour. Just come. I'll be there in five. _ It's seven-thirty now, and Louis' waiting by himself at the library until five before eight when he sees Harry walk through the door. He's ready to be angry, ready to be passive aggressive as fuck until they get the assignment done, but Harry gives him a dim smile as he sits down and it's so obvious that he's been crying that, yet again, Louis feels like an asshole.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks quietly, watching as Harry pulls out the lab from a folder. His hands don't shake this time, so that's good. 

"Can we just get this done?" Harry asks, voice hoarse. He lets out an unconvincing laugh as Louis frowns at him. "I'm just tired, is all. Want to get to bed."

Louis nods with a fake smile of his own. 

It takes them an hour and a half to get the lab done. Harry realizes how dumb Louis is when it comes to chemistry, and he tries to help him, which involves walking him through every single question slowly and patiently. Louis keeps telling him that he doesn't have to, but Harry keeps saying he doesn't mind. 

When they're finished, Louis' brain officially hurts and he feels sorry about pushing Harry. It's obvious something else is going on, and yet he just spent an hour and a half with Louis to help him. 

"Let me walk you to your dorm," Louis says as they stand. 

"Oh," Harry mumbles. "I don't, um. I don't live here. Thanks, though."

And now Louis  _ really _ feels like a prick for keeping him on campus all night. "Do you have a ride home?"

Harry nods. "My mum's picking me up."

"Let me walk you to her car at least," Louis says, almost pleading. "It's the least I could do."

Harry agrees reluctantly, and then they spend five minutes walking to Harry's mum's car together in complete silence. It's okay, it is. Louis didn't expect him to be in a rush to talk to someone who probably doesn’t seem like a very nice person. Harry does thank him before he gets in his mum's car, though, and he sounds genuinely appreciative. Louis smiles at him and tells him no problem, and then he watches as Harry gets in the car. He looks frail, almost, with how he curls in on himself in the passenger's seat, and how quickly his mum's sets a hand on his back.

Louis turns away quickly, knowing that he shouldn't be staring at him like that. 

-

Harry's not frail. He's not. 

The first year of university was terrible for Harry. He was barely there for half of it, and when he was, he was struggling with his mental health the entire time. It's hard to focus, apparently, when one of the men who assaulted you as a child dies in prison, which ultimately shakes your entire system of alters. 

Harry's not frail. He's not weak. He's a normal human being, which ten others attached. But like anybody else, he struggles. And struggling for him means trying to keep your head above the surface when there are ten other people trying to fight for the same spot of air.

Freshman year of university was one of the worst years of Harry's life, and then Louis suddenly popped his head in, and it was still terrible, but with a Louis now.

-

For the next lab, they get to pick partners, and Louis has barely processed the assignment before there's a nervous looking Harry standing next to his desk, looking the tiniest bit hopeful. Louis doesn't react at first -- he  _ needs _ to start sleeping more, Christ -- and the tiny bit of hope in Harry appears to die. 

"I don't know anyone else in this class," Harry says quietly, sounding dejected, and Louis quickly shakes his head and motions for him to sit at the empty seat next to him. Harry does almost cautiously, and Louis catches himself giving him an encouraging smile, and seriously, what is even happening? He doesn't even know Harry. 

He wants to, though. 

Harry works the same way as the last time: quiet and efficient. He just wants to get the job done, and he wants to do it as quickly as possible. But if Louis' going to have a new permanent lab partner, he wants to get to know them a bit more. 

"So," he says, watching Harry do something with a test tube. He's so lost in this class, it's not even funny anymore. "Do you live close, then? Since you don't dorm."

Harry shrugs, not moving his focus from the tube. The liquid in it is blue now. Louis doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. "I live about forty-five minutes away."

Louis cringes. "That's a lot of gas money."

"Yeah, well."

"You should think about moving to campus next year," Louis says, not realizing how hard he's pushing on every single one of Harry's panic buttons. When Harry's doing poorly, he feels cornered easily, and then there's about ten other people willing to take the wheel from him. He can't control when he switches, not really, and that's why he wants to avoid conversation altogether. Something Louis might say, either bad or good, might trigger one of his alters to poke their head through the surface. 

"I was going to," Harry says slowly. "But. Things happened. And I, um. It's not important. Can you write down that the salt dissolved?"

Louis, who is not as dense as he may seem sometimes, takes the hint that Harry doesn't want to talk and writes down what Harry told him to. 

It goes on like that for a few months. That simple exchange that leads to a deal: Harry will do all the work if Louis sits there and stays quiet. They live on an equilibrium, and Louis doesn't realize how fragile that is on Harry's end until he doesn't come to class for two and a half weeks, and when he does come back, he looks pale and bone-deep exhausted. 

He sits down next to Louis, though. He doesn't say a word, and he doesn't look at him, but he takes his seat next to Louis, and Louis feels oddly settled by that. 

Ten minutes into class, Harry clears his throat and glances at Louis. His eyes are red, and the bags underneath his eyes are dark purple. "I told Professor Lawrence that you've been keeping me up to date on the assignments, and that's the only reason why he's allowing me to be in his class right now, so if hr asks you, please lie for me."

Louis nods quickly. "Yeah, 'course. I can send you the notes and the coursework, if you want."

"What's the point?" Harry asks tiredly. He drops his chin on his hand. "I'm not gonna understand any of it."

"I can help you."

"You're terrible at chemistry."

"Well, I can  _ try _ to help you."

Harry looks at him sharply. "Yeah, and then what? Are you going to be there the next time I skip school for half a month?"

Louis doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything at all. And that's probably the worst thing for Harry, because he scoffs and nods. He looks down at the desk with tears in his eyes. 

"Doesn't matter," Harry says hoarsely. "I'm dropping out next week."

"No, you're not," Louis almost snaps, sitting up in his chair. He leans closer to Harry, wanting to put a reassuring hand on his arm but being too uncertain if that's okay or not to do so. "Harry, you're smart. You'll catch up."

Harry looks miserable. "I won't. I can't." He scratches at his forearm, hard enough to leave marks. 

Louis' not talking to Harry right now, but he doesn't know that yet. He doesn't know who Cody is. 

"You can," Louis whispers, shaking his head. "Mate, it's our first year. You can't drop out now."

Harry scoffs. "Why? It'll save me loads of money. And I already filled out all the paperwork, so. It doesn't even fucking matter anymore." He stands abruptly, loud enough to gain the attention of the whole class, and then he leaves the room without even grabbing his backpack. 

Louis, stunned and beyond confused, but also very, very worried, grabs the backpack for him and stands, following after Harry. And Louis will forever be grateful that he followed after a boy he didn't know, and Harry will forever be grateful that the alter Louis met that day in the hallway was Andrew and not anyone else. 

He finds Harry sitting against some unused lockers at the end of the hallway, looking completely content for someone who just stormed out of a classroom after saying they were going to drop out of university. He's sitting there, spinning his phone against the ground with two fingers, looking completely oblivious. 

Louis sits down slowly next to him. "Are you alright?"

Harry glances at him with furrowed eyebrows. He glances down at the phone spinning against the floor, and then back at Louis. "Do I know you?"

Everything inside of Louis stops for a good thirty seconds. He feels frozen as he stares at Harry, unable to do or say anything but knowing he has to. He doesn't know what's going on with Harry right now, but he knows that he needs help. He knows that much. 

"I'm Louis," he says slowly, and it comes out as more of a question. 

Harry nods. "Oh. I'm Andrew. I like your backpack."

Louis' not going to pretend that he didn't feel scared. He was fucking terrified. One minute, he thinks he's calming down a new mate named Harry, and the next said Harry is calling himself Andrew and looking so fucking out of it that Louis questions if he's high on something, or if he's planning on hurting someone, or just someone who desperately needs help right now. 

When  _ Andrew _ starts talking to him about football, Louis decides he has to take a chance and try to help Harry --  _ Andrew  _ \-- whoever the fuck, and he needs to help them now. 

"Can I see your phone?" Louis asks. "I lost mine."

Harry nods and hands him it. It's unlocked, so Louis doesn't have to interrupt Harry's story about how the match he watched on TV last week again. 

Louis is quick in going to Harry's contacts and finding his mum's. He clicks on her name and composes a text message, not caring if he doesn't make sense, but hoping that he makes enough sense for Harry's mum to figure out what's happening. 

_ Hi. This is Louis. A friend of Harry's. I'm w him at uni right now n he's acting super off. Says his name is Andrew. I don't know what's happening, and I don't know what to do but I'm just sitting w him right now and listening to him talk.  _

He presses send, and prays to whoever the fuck that this situation is going to remain as it is: confusing and heartbreaking, but calm. 'Andrew' is calm. 

A text comes through three minutes later.  _ Please, please look after him. I'm on my way. He's not a threat to anyone, I promise. Take him somewhere safe and don't do anything that might make him panic. Please keep him safe until I get there. _

"I have a signed Messi poster at my dorm," Louis says as soon as 'Andrew' pauses. He feels breathless, scared to mess this up. "Do you want to come to my dorm to see it? You don't have to, I just think maybe you'll like it, if you're a footy fan."

'Andrew' grins. "Fuck yes, mate."

So they stand and walk to Louis' dorm, leaving behind Louis' own backpack. 'Andrew' talks the entire way there, and he sounds excited and happy and  _ not at all  _ like the person who was threatening to drop out of university. Louis' still fucking scared as he guides Harry into his dorm room and shuts the door, but 'Andrew' genuinely seems innocent. He grins as he looks around Louis' room and sees all his footy posters, and Louis tries to calm himself down as he walks to his Messi poster and points at it. 

'Andrew' absolutely beams as he stares at it, going on and on and on about how lucky Louis is, and did he get to meet Messi, and has he ever seen a game, and so many other things that it makes Louis' head spin. They sit down, eventually, 'Andrew' on Louis' bed and Louis on his roommates bed, and 'Andrew' keeps talking and talking and talking, and gradually, it slows. 

It's almost like he's glitching, the way he falters. His eyes go distant, and his face goes a bit slack, and then he's blinking hard and talking again, and then he goes back to big eyes and distant look, and Louis watches, helpless. There's about a minute in which Harry just sits there, perfectly still and staring at the ground, and Louis' nearly in tears with how stressed he is. 

Finally, the person before him blinks hard, and then they're glancing around the room like they don't know where the fuck they are. They look frantic for a second, and then their eyes land on Louis, and he doesn't look any less confused but he doesn't look scared anymore. 

"Where am I?" he asks weakly. He's breathing a tad too heavily, and he glances around Louis' room again. He lifts up to probably grab his phone out of his back pocket, and when he finds it's not there, he looks to Louis, absolutely terrified. "Where's my phone? I need my phone. I need to call my mum. Do you know where my phone is?" He's about to cry, and Louis can't take that, so he quickly hands him his phone and he accepts it quickly, fingers shaking. 

"I talked to her already," Louis says quietly. "She's coming."

Harry's chin quivers and he looks down at his phone. He rubs his hand over his forehead, takes a deep breath, and looks back to Louis. "Can you just tell me what happened?"

Louis blinks. "You don't remember?"

Harry shakes his head slowly, bringing his knees up to his chest. He looks so lost. So fucking lost. "Can you at least tell me where I am?"

"Campus. My dorm."

"We're supposed to be in class."

"You left. I followed you."

Harry looks like he's in agony as he bites down on his lip and rubs his wrist on his knee. He lets out a quiet whimper, and Louis' body goes to stand to comfort him, but stops himself when he realizes that he doesn't even know if he's talking to Harry right now. 

"I don't even remember going," Harry says, voice barely more than a whimper. His chest heaves and he shakes his head. "I don't -- oh my god."

"You're okay," Louis says quickly. "You're okay. You're safe. You were in class, and then you talked to me a bit, and then you left, and then I followed you, and then I took you to my dorm because your mum said to take you somewhere safe. And then you talked for a long time. That's it."

Harry takes a deep breath. " _ I _ talked?" he asks hesitantly, and Louis nods. 

"Well, um. I spoke to Andrew. I. . . Am I still speaking to -- "

"No," Harry snaps, shaking his head. "No, I'm -- fucking Christ. I'm so fucking sick of this, I'm -- " his face scrunches up like he's in actual pain, and Louis wishes desperately Harry didn't take his phone back so he could see how far away his mum was. Last time he checked, she was still twenty minutes out. 

"I'm gonna go," Harry says, standing, and immediately, Louis stands with him. 

"Please don't," Louis says, and he doesn't mean to make Harry feel trapped, but that's exactly what he does. Harry rubs his hand over his face, hard, and he slowly sits back down on Louis' bed. 

"Can I call my mum?" he asks, voice shaky, and shit, Louis fucked up.

"You can do whatever you want, Harry. I'm not -- I don't want to hurt you. I'm trying to keep you safe until she gets here."

Harry doesn't look so certain about that as he types his mum's number in and holds the phone against his ear. "Mum?" he says, voice suddenly so much smaller and weaker. "Are you almost here? . . . okay. Okay. No, I can wait. I'm okay, I think, I. . . no. No. He says I'm in his dorm. . . I don't remember, Mum. . . I don't know. . . I don't know. . ." His mum says something that visibly upsets him, and Louis' heart lurches in his chest as he hears Harry let out a sharp cry. "I'm scared. I'm really scared. Come get me, please. I don't want to be here anymore." Harry leans his head against his knee and squeezes his eyes shut. "Okay, Mum, I know, but I don't -- I still don't feel good. I don't feel like myself, and I'm scared, and I just need -- I know, I know you're coming, but come faster,  _ please. _ "

Louis' in actual tears by the time Harry's mum comes. Harry lies in Louis' bed, holding himself like he's scared he's going to fall apart, as Louis instructs her where to go and what to do on the phone, and then she's there, knocking on the door. Louis gets up quickly and opens the door for her, and she pushes past him to get to Harry, who's crying and reaching out for her. 

Harry and his mum Anne leave only a few minutes after, because Anne keeps asking him questions and Harry just keeps telling her he wants to go home. She thanks Louis for looking after Harry before they leave, but that's it, and then Louis' stuck sitting in his dorm, trying to figure out what just happened. 

After that, Harry's not in a rush to talk to him. He doesn't drop out, but that doesn't mean he wants anything to do with Louis anymore. He finds a new spot to sit, and he finds a new lab partner, and Louis' not even upset. He understands that Harry's probably embarrassed. Louis still hasn't quite figured out what happened, although he knows it's out of Harry's control and that it's none of Louis' business. 

They stay out of each other's way until towards the end of the semester. Louis' packing up his stuff to leave, and when he looks up, Harry's standing there, biting on his bottom lip and gripping onto his backpack straps. He forces himself to not make any type of face and he smiles as Harry. 

"Hey," he says. "What's up?"

Harry glances off to the side before looking back at Louis. "I know, um. I know we don't really talk, but my mum's car broke down on her way here, and -- she's fine, and her car's at the shop, but I don't. . . I don't have a ride home right now. She's trying to get a rental, but I don't feel like staying on campus longer than I have to, so, like." He takes a deep breath and gives him a small shrug. "Do you think maybe you could drive me home? Or can I stay at your dorm until she can come get me?"

"I can drive you home," Louis says, standing. He gets the feeling that he's truly Harry's only option right now, and he doesn't want to mess it up for him. "You want to go now?"

Harry nods. "Yes, please. If that's okay."

"Yeah, 'course. Come on."

Harry's quiet in the car, and Louis can only handle it for about ten minutes. This is a forty-five minute drive plus traffic, and then Louis' going to have to drive back to campus by himself, and he doesn't feel like sitting in silence. 

"So, um. What are you studying?"

Harry's anxious fumbling of his fingers seems to get worse as he talks. "Sociology. You?"

"Ah, it's History as of right now, but I highly doubt it's going to stay that way for much longer."

Harry smiles a bit. "Why? You don't like it?"

"It's boring," Louis says, nodding. "And I don't really see myself doing anything with it as a career, so."

He expects Harry to let the conversation die there; clearly, he's not much of a talker, and a response to Louis' statement isn't necessary. So he's a little surprised when Harry says, "Well. We're only halfway through our first year. You have time to change it."

The urge to ask Harry what that whole thing a few months back was about gets stronger, but he immediately pushes it down. He's not going to take advantage of the small amount of trust Harry was willing to give to him. And again, it's none of Louis' business. He's curious, yes, but he needs to keep that curiosity tucked away, because Harry doesn't have to tell him anything. 

They talk back and forth a bit during the ride. Not as much as Louis prefers, but more than he thought he was going to get. He gets the feeling Harry's not actually as quiet as he wants himself to appear to be. There's a point where Harry opens up to him a little more as he talks passionately about what music he likes, and then he clams up like he's made a mistake. The quietness must be a front of some sort. Some defense mechanism. 

Or maybe Louis' reaching and over-analyzing someone because he wants to know more about them. 

They get to Harry's house, and Louis asks to use the bathroom real quickly before he heads back to campus. He doesn't want to, but he actually has to pee, and he doesn't feel like making a stop somewhere else. And Harry agrees easily enough, walking him up to the door and unlocking it. He's uncomfortable, that much is obvious, although Louis' going to ignore that because he has to wee. 

A cat greets them at the door, and Harry smiles down at it and says hello quietly. "Um, the bathroom's down that hallway to the left," Harry says, pointing down a hallway. He reaches down to pick up the cat and walks further into the house. It's a nice home with warm tones and hardwood floors, and there's a handful of family pictures on the wall. They're all of Harry, Harry's mum, and a girl that looks a bit older than Harry. 

"Thanks," Louis says, maybe a moment too late. He follows Harry's directions, and just as he pushes open the bathroom door, he sees Harry's mum in the kitchen, and Harry comes up to her and kisses her cheek before pulling her in for a quick hug. They seem to be close, which makes Louis a little less worried about Harry. 

As he uses the bathroom, he tries to rationalize with himself. There is no reason to worry about Harry. Yes, he behaved weirdly a few months ago, and he misses a lot of school, and he seems hard on himself, but that's -- he's an adult. He has his mum. He doesn't need a mostly-stranger thinking they have a place in his life to worry about him. That doesn't seem fair on him. 

He finishes up and washes his hands, and then he walks back the direction he came. The kitchen isn't far from the door, so he stops by to say goodbye and thank Harry for letting him use the bathroom. 

"You should stay for dinner, Louis," Anne says, smiling, and Louis' immediate instinct is to say no, but Harry doesn't look too put-off by the idea. When Louis gives him a questioning glance, Harry shrugs a shoulder indifferently, and Louis agrees to stay. 

Over dinner, Louis doesn't get any clues as to what Harry might be going through, but he does learn that Harry plays the guitar, likes to bake, and gets magazine subscriptions from  _ Cosmopolitan  _ and _ Vogue. _ He's soft-spoken, but with his mum around, he seems more sure of himself, and his words don't have the shake behind them that they usually do. Louis makes him smile and laugh a lot, and it's odd, the way that Louis makes that his goal. Every time Harry laughs at something stupid Louis said, Louis grins and tries to make that noise happen again. 

From there, Harry and Louis become friends. 

It picks back up where it was left off: Harry sitting next to Louis in chemistry and working with him on labs. And then when the semester ends and winter break is due to start, Louis asks for his number again because he never keyed it into his phone, and Harry blushes like mad as he types it into Louis' phone. 

"Can I text you sometime?" Louis asks, and he's not  _ flirting, _ it's just that he is. "Over break?"

Harry shrugs. "If you want, sure."

And Louis does want, so he texts Harry two days into their winter break. They exchange a few texts back and forth, and it's only a little stiff. Two days later, though, Harry texts  _ him, _ and that's when Louis gets the courage to text him more, and then by the end of December, they're talking back and forth almost every day. There are some days that Harry is short and takes a long time to reply, and there are other days that are completely radio-silent on Harry's end, but it's alright, because when Harry does text, it makes Louis grin. 

Their texts range from pictures of Harry's cat to memes, to discussions of pop culture to university. Rarely does it ever move into something more serious. When it does, though, Louis is careful and thoughtful about how he responds. 

The first time Harry allows Louis in more is with a response to Louis' question of what Harry's up to that day of December.  _ Nothing really,  _ Harry texts. _ I'm going to the grocery store with my mum in an hr and then I'm going to therapy at 3. You? _

It's small, and it's probably nothing, but he also knows it's taking a lot of trust for Harry to tell him that. And that's not even Louis over-analyzing anymore. He's really gotten to know Harry, even if it is just through text. 

The next time is late at night, about a week later, when Harry randomly texts him,  _ I wish I had more friends Louis. I wish I felt safe talking to people like you do. _

It absolutely breaks Louis' heart, and he sits up in bed and thanks every star in the sky that he's awake at three in the morning to comfort him. _ I'm sorry Harry :( but you have me and you have your sister and your mum and niall. _ Louis doesn't know Niall, but Harry tells him he's his best mate and has been for a while. He presses send and chews on his thumb nail as he waits for Harry's reply. 

_ I don't know. I just feel like I'm alone all the time _ , Harry sends, and then not even a minute later, _ I don't know I should probably go to bed. Night Louis.  _

And for a minute Louis thinks he should just let it be and allow Harry to sleep. Harry's probably not going to sleep, and even if he is, he deserves to wake up to a good message. 

_ I'm sorry you feel that way,  _ he writes. _ Nobody should feel like that. And I promise you're not alone. You have your friends and your family and it sounds like your family is really supportive. Maybe talk to your mum when you wake up? I'm sure she can help. And I know that we haven't known each other that long but I think you're a really interesting person who is funny and smart and kind. Just know that I'll be here to listen to you if you ever need it xxx _

Harry doesn't reply to that, and Louis can't fall asleep. Maybe he shouldn't be so worried, but he is anyway. Harry's not a mentally stable person. It's not mean, it's true. Something is not steady in Harry's brain, and Louis doesn't know how severe it is or if it could lead to Harry hurting himself. If it is, and if Harry was reaching out to Louis in a last-ditch effort at life and Louis failed him somehow. . . 

Louis feels sick the entire morning as he waits for Harry to respond. Harry usually texts him good morning around nine, so he tries to convince himself not to panic until then. Maybe he did just go to sleep, maybe Louis' worried for no good reason. 

This time, Harry's fine. At nine-fourteen, Harry texts him and says, _ Did you know otters hold hands while they sleep so they don't drift apart? _

And Louis lets it go. Maybe Harry's brain was spiraling because it was three o'clock in the morning. Maybe Harry's feeling better now. So he lets it go, and he lets it be, and then two days later Harry tells Louis that he hates himself, and Louis doesn't know what to do all over again. 

They're talking about the new Marvel movie when Harry stops replying as consistently. It's fine, and Louis doesn't think anything of it. He's playing a game on the computer with one of his little sisters, so he gets lost in that for a little while. By the time he checks his phone again, it's a half hour later and he has three texts from Harry. 

_ God Louis _

_ My mum wants to check me into a psychiatric ward. I've been doing bad lately but I don't want to go. I've been before and it's so fucking boring and it makes me feel like a crazy person. _

_ I really really hate myself  _

"Louis, it's your turn," Daisy says, and Louis shushes her quietly and stands. He tells her to give him a minute and goes to his room, and as soon as he shuts the door, he calls Harry. They've never talked on the phone before, but right now doesn't feel like the time to be worrying about their traditions. 

Harry rejects the call and texts him instead.  _ I don't want to talk on the phone.  _

Louis takes a deep breath and sits on his bed.  _ Okay. That's fine. How are you?  _

_ Really really shitty if i'm being honest. _

_ What's going on? _

It must be bad, whatever it is, if Harry is going to Louis with it. Louis and Harry haven't reached this level of friendship yet, and he has a hard time believing this is Harry trusting him more. He probably feels like he has no one else to go to, and that's a fuck ton of pressure, but Louis forces himself to handle it. 

_ I don't want to talk about it,  _ Harry says, and no. No. Louis won't just let it go like he did the other night. He can't, right? Obviously Harry is hurting; it'd be awful to let it go. It sounds like Harry's mum is with him, but still. 

_ Okay, Harry. But are you safe? _

_ Yes. I'm with my mum. I think she's just overreacting but idk. Just fucking sucks _

Louis gnaws on his bottom lip, staring at the screen. He wants to know more. Needs to, kind of, because he's extremely worried about Harry right now. He doesn't want to scare Harry off, but shit. _ I don't mean to pry,  _ he writes,  _ but can you maybe tell me a little of what's going on? You don't have to if you really don't want to but _

It takes three minutes for Harry to respond, and Louis' almost at the point of accepting that he screwed up and asked Harry too much when Harry's text comes through. 

_ I have issues Louis. _

And then, _ and I don't know it just really fucking sucks. it's been really bad the last few months. Shit's going on with my family and stuff. And I had a bit of a meltdown last night and it scared my mum. But I really don't want to go to the hospital _

Louis takes a few deep breaths before replying. He's terrified of saying the wrong thing. _ Maybe you should listen to your mum harry. I'm not there so of course I don't know, and I'm not telling you what to do at all. But if you're feeling poorly you should get help.  _

Harry's response is immediate.  _ I feel poorly all the fucking time. You want me to spend the rest of my life in a hospital? _

It goes on like that for almost an hour. Harry gets angry, and he gets sad, and he gets scary. Every time Harry says something that worries Louis, he tries to remind himself that he has his mum right next to him, but that doesn’t feel good enough when Harry's texting him things like he doesn't know how he's going to live like this for the next sixty years. Louis does his best to keep up, and he basically texts Harry non-stop until the next afternoon, where Harry's checked into a psychiatric hospital for the next thirty days. 

Louis expects all communication to be cut off, but Harry's allowed to keep his phone, and that brings Louis more relief than anything else in the world could. 

He texts Harry day in and day out. Harry's bored and he's sad and texting Louis helps, he says. And when Harry texts him that, Louis gets the possibly stupid idea to visit Harry. It's almost a four hour drive, but Louis' been meaning to drive to campus to bring some stuff back to school before break ends anyway. 

He asks Harry if it would be okay if he came on day ten of his thirty days. They're speaking over the phone, because Harry calls him out of the blue now and Louis always, always answers. 

"You don't have to," Harry says quietly. "I'm okay, Louis. I am. You don't have to go out of your way to try to make me feel better. I don't want you feeling, like, guilty or something."

"Maybe I just want to see you," Louis says, equally as quiet. He's still so scared of messing things up with Harry. Harry deserves to have a fucking friend. He's been opening up to Louis more, and the main reason why he's at the hospital right now is because his mum was scared he was going to try to commit suicide again. 

_ Again. _ When Harry said that, Louis felt breathless. He asked about it, he had to, and Harry mostly waved it off and said he was in the seventh grade and that it was so long ago he forgot what it was even about. It was supposed to calm Louis, but all Louis could think was,  _ oh my god, _ seventh _ grade? _ and then Harry kept talking and said he tried again in year twelve and he can't even remember doing it. 

Harry mentions that a lot, forgetting things. And Louis doesn't know what it means, and he's too afraid to ask. 

"I never wanted to involve you in this stuff," Harry tells him. "I tried not to. I just wanted a normal friendship with someone, and now you're going to drive four hours to come see me at a mental hospital. I guess. . . I guess I just can't have normal, I don't know."

"A 'normal' friendship is two people taking care of each other," Louis says sharply. "It's accepting everything about the other person. We have a normal friendship."

Harry lets out a shaky noise, and Louis closes his eyes. "You aren't going to feel like that forever. You don't even know the half of it, Louis. And I'm going to lose you just like I lost everyone else."

"You're not," Louis promises. "You're not, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."

And he doesn't. 

-

He visits Harry the next week, and seeing him in person brings Louis the peace he needed. 

He looks normal. He's wearing a soft purple jumper with gray sweats, and he's smiling softly and gives Louis a brief hug before sitting down. They play Go Fish with a deck of cards that are sitting in the visiting area, and Louis tries to work out if Harry's calmness is a lie or not, but his laugh sounds the same and seems okay. 

"They treating you well?" Louis asks quietly. He's read some things online to try and figure out what to expect, and he read too many stories about hurt people being taken advantage of or neglected. 

Harry nods without looking at him. "This is my fourth time in here, so. They know how to handle me."

Two suicide attempts. Four different psychiatric ward visits. And someone named Andrew. 

Louis feels like he has so many pieces, yet he has no idea what they all mean. 

"I know this is a lot," Harry mumbles, smoothing his fingers over the cards in his hands. It's Louis' turn. "And I'm really appreciative of you coming here. So is my mum." He smiles a little. "She cried when I told her that you were coming."

"Has Niall come yet?" Louis asks. Harry hasn't mentioned him visiting, but Niall is his best mate. Surely he's come. 

Harry shakes his head. "Niall lives in Ireland."

"Oh," Louis says, surprised. Harry hadn't told him that. "Oh, um. How'd you two meet?"

Harry looks hesitant, so Louis quickly goes back to his card game and asks him if he has any twos. He doesn't, so he picks up a card for the pile. He sighs quietly. 

"Would you believe me if I said here?" Harry asks, and he sounds incredibly self-conscious. Louis wants to reach out to grab his hand, but he doesn't.

"Yes," he says immediately. "I don't think you're a liar, or, like. . . untrustworthy." He wonders if he should. 

Harry nods and shifts in his seat. He looks tired. Maybe he hasn't been sleeping well here, which doesn't seem hard to believe. "He was in London with his family for summer vacation, and he basically, like, lost his shit in some museum or something. He has, um. He has what I have, but, like. . . worse." Harry gives him a self-deprecating smile. "We bonded 'cause we're the same brand of fucked up, I guess."

Louis doesn't ask what it is exactly that Niall and Harry have in common, because he knows Harry doesn't want him to. He just nods and smiles before telling Harry it's his turn, and Harry looks secretly grateful as he steals all of Louis' fours. 

Later on that night, just as Louis' going to bed, he does the math in his head and realizes that Harry's not going to be out in time for the start of second semester. Harry probably will get a doctor's note, but still, Louis texts and asks if there's anything he needs from Louis while he's on campus, like buying textbooks for him or anything like that. 

Harry texts him back the following morning.  _ I had to drop out Louis _ , he says, and no. No. Harry likes university and he's smart and he deserves to be able to get an education.

_ Like you took a sick leave or you dropped out dropped out? _ Louis asks, praying for the former. Dropping out feels a lot like Harry's giving up on himself, and he hates it. He hates it so much. 

_ I dropped out dropped out. Don't worry, I probably will end up going back in a year or two. I just can't handle it right now. Like I said, I have a lot of shit to deal with right now. I mean i'm in a mental hospital lol _

Louis doesn't personally want to handle this with jokes, but if that's what Harry needs, it's obviously okay. 

_ And I'll probably doing schooling online next time. _ Harry says. _ Being away from home all day really wasn't good for me. Stressed me out too much. _

Louis feels terrible for him. He doesn't even know what to say. All he texts is,  _ I'm sorry h :( _

_ Don't be. It's okay. Uni is the last thing on my mind right now to be honest.  _

And that's fair, so Louis drops it and asks him if he saw the last episode of Project Runway.

-

From there forward, Harry and Louis become almost inseparable. 

Once Harry's out of the hospital and Louis' back at university, they see each other a lot more. Louis goes over to his house at least twice a week, and they text constantly, and they've gotten in the habit of talking on the phone together every night before bed. Harry doesn't call sometimes, which is okay. 

Their bond stays like that for a while. They just talk, mostly. Usually about nothing serious, although now Harry trusts him a lot more with that type of thing. When Louis asks how he is, he's usually honest with him now. To that question the answer is usually _ okay, _ meaning not good but not bad either. Harry tells him about therapy, and about how he's been going since he was seven. When Louis makes an offhand comment about Harry's seemingly absent dad one day, Harry tells him that he's in prison, and the conversation dies down a little. 

It was the first clue of what happened to Harry that Louis received. Even now, whenever Harry talks about his dad, Louis is scared to say the wrong thing. 

For a while, it's good. They're good. And then in Louis' second semester of his second year at university, Harry finally tells him what's going on with him, and nothing between them becomes bad, it's just. . . a lot, at first. 

One day, Louis checks his phone after getting out of class, and he has four messages from Harry. 

_ I'm trusting you with this mostly because I want someone else to talk about it with. I need you to be supportive of me, okay? I can't have you ghosting me. I promise you, I'm not a threat to anyone except maybe myself. So please PLEASE don't be afraid of me. I promise I'm harmless. Don't believe any of the movies you've seen about it. I'm not a monster. And I will be absolutely heartbroken if you think any less of me over this.  _

Louis reads the first text and finds the nearest table to sit at before looking at the others. 

The second text is a link to a medical website on D.I.D., which Louis skims through it briefly, confused but also just in denial, and reads the third text.

_ That's what I have. It's not the best explanation but idk how to explain it sometimes. And i know it might make me seem crazy or freakish but i really really need you to give me a chance to prove myself to you. I can't take losing you over this but I don't want to hide it from you anymore.  _

The fourth one is from ten minutes ago, and it says, _ i'm so fucking scared right now.  _

Immediately, Louis calls him. He half expects Harry to ignore the call and then text him that he doesn't want to talk, but then Harry answers and Louis automatically says, "You do not have to prove yourself to me, alright? You're not -- I'm not going to cut you off because you have an illness. That's batshit."

Harry's sniffling carries over the line, and Louis feels so fucking bad for him. Harry tries saying something, but it comes out jumbled and he has to restart. "Did you -- did you read the link?"

"I skimmed it. I'll read it better later. Just wanted to talk to you."

"But you might feel different after you read the whole thing."

Louis' heart breaks and he closes his eyes. "Harry, no. I won't. You're. . . you can't help it. You having a disorder doesn't make me look at you any different. You're still the same person."

"Don't try to be overly nice and protective of me," Harry says, and he sounds angry, which completely confuses Louis. "You have to acknowledge that this is a serious disorder, Louis, you can't just -- can't just tip toe around it because you're scared to hurt my feelings. I am not the same person. I mean,  _ I _ am, but there's -- there's more to me than just me, and I don't want you saying it's okay now and then a week from now realize how crazy I actually am."

"You're not crazy, don't say that," Louis says, shaking his head. "I understand that it's a serious issue, okay? I do. But you're not crazy. And I'm not going to feel any different about you because of it. You're my best mate, Haz. I can learn to, like, deal with the other stuff. Accept it, I mean. I'll do anything for you, you know that."

"Okay," Harry mumbles, voice shaking. "Okay. Thank you."

-

They move into a small flat in London together three months before Louis' third year of university is up. He's been working a lot lately, and what he's saved will cover everything until Louis gets a proper job at the place he's been interning at. He'll be paid well. He switched to studying media and communication early in his second year, and he'll be working in an entry-level job position in HR for a small local company. He's planning on trying to get Harry a job there as a receptionist or something, but he's not going to bring it up until Harry says he wants a job. For now, his mum is going to be paying his half of the rent.

Louis' excited about living with Harry, he is, but he'd be lying if he said he felt ready for it. Harry's been doing really well these last few months; at least, in Louis' eyes he has been. He's sure Anne would tell a different story. So it kind of feels like he's getting himself into something he still doesn't understand completely. Either on purpose or because it's what he's used to, Harry has still kept some things hidden from Louis, and Louis is scared everything is going to turn to shit as soon as they move in with each other. 

But he has Harry's mum's number on speed-dial, Harry's comfortable moving away from home which is something that Anne never thought possible, and Harry's his best fucking friend, so they'll figure it out. They have to. 

The first month is a bit rocky, although nothing terrible. Between work, his internship, and school, Louis' not home all that often, but when he is, Harry's quiet and anxious and usually laying in his room doing something by himself. He's never upset or annoyed when Louis knocks on his door and crawls into bed with him, joining whatever Harry's up to, which is good.

A move is stressful for anyone. Harry's brain handles stress in a unique way, and he's worried that it's going to scare Louis off, so he tries to keep quiet and to himself. When he tells Louis that, Louis tries to convince him that he's not going to be scared off, but Harry is sure that he's going to mess this up for them. 

There are two separate occasions in the first month that Louis comes home to meet someone who isn't Harry. He does his very best to be calm about it, although it's difficult. 

The first time is probably the worst, because Louis' only supposed to be home for an hour before he has to get to class and the person Louis meets shouldn't be left by themselves. He doesn't know anything is off at first, and he slips his shoes off by the door and heads to Harry's room with a salad that he picked up for him during lunch. Harry's got a bad habit of not eating as much as he should sometimes. He opens the door without knocking because it's cracked, and Harry's curled up in bed under the blankets with a purple plush cat squeezed to his chest. 

Immediately, Louis pauses by the doorway. Between his research and what little information Harry has offered him, Louis' pretty sure this is a little. And he doesn't know how old whoever in front of him is, but he does know that he has to be gentle and cautious and should probably not touch them. He gives them a calm smile and quietly tells them he has a salad for them if they want it.

"Thank you," a voice that's definitely not Harry's says. It's small and delicate and high-pitched, and either Harry's going to have to come back to him within the next hour or Louis' blowing off his class. He doesn't want to leave this person by themselves. 

Louis sets the food on Harry's bedside table and takes a deep breath. "I'm Louis. Um, if you -- if there's anything you need, let me know, okay?"

They nod. "Okay."

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Jenny."

Louis nods once. Jenny. Okay. All right. Jenny it is. 

"Do you want to watch a movie, Jenny?" Louis asks, picking up Harry's tablet off the table. He doesn't know what to do, not really. He's faking it and hopes that he makes it. But he's curious to get some idea of how old this Jenny is, and maybe seeing what movie she picks out might help him figure that out. 

It works somewhat. Jenny's a fan of  _ Little Mermaid,  _ and she giggles at Flounder, and Louis stays in the room but as far away as he can. He doesn't know Jenny's limits. Sometimes it feels like he doesn't even know Harry's. And sitting in the beanbag in the corner of Harry's room, playing on his phone while also keeping an eye on her, seems like the best option. 

He gets Harry back about two hours later, after the usual slow blinking and blank face. Louis makes himself perfectly still in the corner -- maybe he's not getting Harry back, maybe he's meeting someone else, and he has to be mindful -- but Harry slowly sits up and blinks at him and asks why he isn't in class. 

"Um," Louis says, sitting up. "I didn't," he sighs, "I didn't want to leave Jenny alone. She, um. She seemed young. Didn't feel right."

Harry looks a bit lost for a moment as he glances down at the tablet and at the cat resting on his chest, and then he nods slowly. "Oh," he says. "Oh, um."

"Don't worry about it," Louis says. He stands and smiles gently at Harry. "There's a salad for you in the fridge. Want me to grab it for you?"

Louis' moving too fast, it's clear by the tears in Harry's eyes and the nervous way he picks at the plush toy's fur. He pauses by the doorway and leans against the door frame. "Sorry. I don't mean to be, like, dismissive or anything. What do you need? I can stay in my room for a bit if you want."

"I'm going to shower, I think," Harry says, sitting up in bed. He powers off the tablet and sets it on the table and puts the plush toy gently on the ground before pulling his legs out of the covers and setting them on the ground. He looks extremely disoriented. 

"Are you okay?" Louis asks quietly. 

Harry looks at him tiredly. "I don't even remember waking up this morning."

"Do you know if you've eaten at all today?"

"Probably not," Harry says, standing. "Not if. . . not if Jenny was the one in control. She gets scared easily, and she's not familiar with this place yet." He sounds sad, and he sounds exhausted, and Louis wants nothing more than to tuck him back into bed and tell him to sleep.

"Can you eat before you shower, then?" Louis asks. "I don't want you, like, passing out or something."

Harry nods once and sighs. "You're probably right."

He and Louis walk to the kitchen, and Louis pulls out the salad for him before fucking off to the living room to leave Harry be. Harry doesn't need him being too nosy. It's obvious Harry's feeling vulnerable, and Louis' not going to mess with that. And then Harry comes out into the living room and sits down next to him on the sofa, and he asks Louis how work was, and Louis' heart almost gives out with how much he feels for Harry. 

Having a crush on someone as complex as Harry feels wrong, like he's taking advantage or something. And he knows that's probably wrong, but he doesn't want to mess with Harry's head. He doesn't want to make things worse for Harry. About a year later, when he admits this to Harry, it hurts Harry beyond belief.  _ Just because I'm different doesn't mean I can't be loved. _

The second time he comes home to someone who's not Harry is completely different than the first time. 

He's home for the night, and he goes to Harry's room like normal and he's not there. The bathroom door is shut, so Louis' not concerned and he heads back to the living room to relax from the day. He loses track of time while he's on the phone, and then he realizes with a glance at the clock that it has been a half hour since he's been home and Harry hasn't come out of the bathroom. 

He immediately stands and goes to the bathroom. He knocks on the bathroom door twice and asks Harry if he's okay. There's no response, and Louis does not waste any time in grabbing the key off the edge of the top of the bathroom door and opening it. If Harry's in harm's way, he doesn't care about privacy. 

Harry's fine. He's sitting on the tub's ledge, painting his toenails a light shade of yellow. He has earbuds in, and they're loud, judging by the way he can clearly hear every bass line of some Eminem song. And that's not Harry's taste of music, so he quickly accepts the idea that he's probably not dealing with Harry. 

He's right. He's not. It's Alison, and she gives him a disinterested look as she glances at Louis. "Oh," she says. "Hello." And that's so far from Harry's voice that it's almost scary. It's just so  _ weird; _ he's looking at Harry, at the same body and face he always has, and yet it's distinctly not Harry. 

"Hi," Louis says. "Sorry for barging in."

"It's okay. I'm almost finished up." 

Not only is her voice higher and rougher than Harry's, it's not even the same  _ accent.  _ The way she speaks has a Geordie twang to it, and Louis' done research on D.I.D., but none of the websites he's read has forewarned him of that. 

"Well, alright," Louis says, only a bit awkwardly. "I'll be out in the living room if you need me."

She scoffs a little and looks down at her toe nails. "I won't."

And, well. Alright then.

Like last time, he waits it out and interferes as little as possible. And when Harry comes out into the living room a few hours later, he looks tired and a bit aggravated but he doesn't seem to feel as exposed as he did the last time. He just comes over to Louis, lays down next to him on the couch, and puts his head on Louis' lap. They cuddle sometimes, so it's not awkward or anything, and Louis starts running his hand through Harry's hair. 

"You alright?" Louis asks quietly, a few minutes later, and Harry nods. 

"She's just lucky I like the color yellow," Harry mumbles against his thigh. His fingernails are painted too, and they look pretty on him, so Louis grabs his hand and squeezes it. 

"I like the color yellow, too."

-

Louis meets all the other alters, obviously. With time, though, and sometimes it's not as easy as those two situations played out. He meets James about two and a half months into them living with each other, and he absolutely chews into Louis. Says things so mean that Louis won't repeat because he knows how ashamed Harry is of that side of him. And James was cruel to him, yes, but his first run-in with Peter, Harry's sexual alter, was probably the most uncomfortable for Louis. 

Peter introduces himself four months into them living together, the morning after Harry and Louis have sex for the first time. Harry initiated it last night, and he neglected to tell Louis that he has a rough sexual history, which might have better prepared Louis for Peter, but Louis doesn't hold it against him. 

Louis doesn't realize Harry's not Harry until Peter's hand is down Louis' pants and he says something so ridiculously  _ filthy  _ that Harry would never even have the guts to say to Louis during sex. Immediately, Louis pulls away from Peter and asks him to stop, and Peter does but he's a bit whiny about it. 

As Louis waits for his Harry to come back to him, he's a little angry. Not with Harry, and not even with Peter, just in general. Because it seems unfair for Louis to have to question everything with Harry, and he recognizes how selfish and entitled that is of Louis to feel, but he feels it anyway. 

Harry feels absolutely terrible for it later, and he's so ashamed of himself that he won't even look at him in the eye. "You didn't consent to him touching you," Harry tells him a few hours later in a tight voice. Immediately, Louis stops that kind of thinking. 

"And you didn't consent to him taking over your body," Louis says, and maybe that's not fair to Harry or his alters, but it's true. Harry doesn't have a say in who he is when, and that's not fair. Harry shouldn't have to carry the guilt from his alter's actions. 

Harry, because he's too hard on himself, doesn't let himself off the hook that easily, and he's absolutely heartbroken over what happened this morning all day and night. He's so angry with himself, and Louis doesn't know how to help him. It's too early in any of this for him to have any idea. 

Eventually, Harry stops beating himself up for what happened, although he is much more stressed whenever they have sex now, which kind of sucks and is also counterproductive. They figure it out, though. There's nothing Louis isn't willing to work through. 

Sex turns to casual dating, and casual dating turns into boyfriends. It's a natural progression, and it's mostly smooth, aside from Harry's final warning that he gives Louis after Louis asks him to be his boyfriend. 

"I'm insane," he says, "and you have to be sure you're ready to handle that."

"You're not insane, and we've been living together for almost a year now. I can handle this."

-

Harry loves fiercely. He's protective over Louis, and he's gentle with him, and he prioritizes Louis' happiness to a fault sometimes. It's like he's accepted that he'll never be happy himself, so he tries to make Louis as happy as he can, and it's heartbreaking. He tells Harry all the time that he doesn't have to try to earn Louis' love, because he already has it. 

As they grow together as a couple, Harry opens up to him more. There are so many layers to Harry, ones that Louis' isn't aware of until Harry's showing him. Harry tells him more about his time at the psychiatric ward and suicide attempts. He tells him about a boyfriend he had when he was fourteen that was much older than him and took advantage of him, and that story leads to Harry sharing more of what happened to him as a kid. 

"You're one of two people that I've been with consensually," Harry says to him, staring at the ceiling. They're in bed; they sleep in Louis' room now, although Harry still spends a lot of time in his own room. It's where he usually is whenever he isn't in the front anymore. "And I've been with about five other people, I think."

Louis is always petrified whenever he can tell that Harry is telling him something he's not quite sure he wants to be sharing just yet. "Oh," is all he says, because he doesn't want to say something disrespectful, and he's not in the position to ask any questions. 

"I think there were four of them," Harry says quietly, and his eyes slip shut. "I can't remember. I was so young. But I'm pretty sure there were four of them."

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

"I just wish they hadn't broken my fucking brain," Harry says, and his hands are clenched angrily where they're resting on his stomach. "I wouldn't care about what they did to my body if it meant that I got to keep my brain."

"I understand," Louis says quietly, even though he doesn't. He won't ever be able to understand. And Harry knows that, and he knows that Louis' trying his best to be supportive without being invasive or disrespectful, which Louis is beyond grateful for. 

He doesn't make the connection that Harry's father was involved in Harry's sexual trauma until months later, when he's at Harry's mum's house for dinner. He's laying on Harry's old bed, staring up at the ceiling as Harry grabs some stuff out of the drawers, when Harry scoffs at something. 

"Don't know why she keeps putting these in my room," Harry mumbles, tossing a stack of something in the trash. Letters, it looks like. "I'm never going to read them."

"What are they?"

"Letters from my dad," Harry says shortly, shaking his head. "He writes me, like, once a month still. It's fucking pathetic. He knows how badly he fucked up my brain, and he thinks he -- " Harry takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

Louis can't hide the look of horror on his face when he recognizes that phrase; fucked up brain, broken brain, same thing. The only time he refers to how what those people did to him as a child gave him a mental disorder, he says they broke his brain or fucked it up. 

Harry frowns at him as Louis puts it together. "I thought you figured it out by now," he says quietly, and he looks apologetic. He sits on the edge of the bed and presses a short kiss to Louis' cheek. "Just don't think about it."

"Harry -- "

"Or think about it, I don't care," Harry says sharply, standing up. "But I'm not going to talk about it, so. You can fuck off about it."

Louis stays silent, feeling breathless, as Harry finishes grabbing a few more things from his room. He's shocked and he's disgusted and he's fucking confused, because Harry's right -- why would his father feel like he had the right to write Harry letters after what he did, and why does his mum put them in his room still? He doesn't ask, not after Harry clearly told him not to, but he does ask Harry if he can hug him before dinner. 

"You don't have to ask me that, Lou," Harry says, grabbing Louis' hand and tugging him closer. Louis wraps his arms around him and tries to pour every ounce of love into Harry that he possibly can. 

That's all Louis learns about what happened to Harry as a kid. Just those small pieces gives Louis a glimpse at the whole puzzle, and he doesn't need anymore. He doesn't need to know in detail of what happened to Harry. All he needs to know is how to protect him, which is something he learns how to do very well. 

-

Interacting with Harry's alters becomes normal to Louis. He learns how to behave around certain alters, and when he needs to back off completely or intervene. He gets to know them all separately, and eventually, Harry learns to accept that Louis' not going to run off. 

Handling Harry's alters isn't the hardest part for Louis. It's the after, when Harry's back and sad and embarrassed. He hates himself a lot, which is something that breaks Louis' heart. Harry isn't a very happy person, either. It'd be easier, Louis thinks, if Harry was happy, because when he is around, he should be able to be careless and full of hope. He shouldn't have to spend his time upset with himself and fearing that he's messing up Louis' life. 

It's not like Harry's never happy, because he is. He likes spending time with Louis and his mum, and talking to Niall makes him happy, and he has his hobbies, like listening to music and watching TV and baking. It'd be better if Harry let himself go outside more, but he's terrified of switching while he's out in public, even if Louis is right there with him to help whoever comes out. 

It's hard, loving someone who feels so defeated. Harry has every right to feel that way, though. He does. And it's not like Harry doesn't love him enough, because he does. Louis just feels guilty, accepting love from Harry when Harry isn't capable of giving it to himself. 

"It's hard," Harry tells him one day, "because, like. I'll always be like this. It can get better, but I've been in therapy for a long time, and if I'm being honest, I have progressed much in a few years. And it's, like. All those sayings, you know? It'll get better, and all that. It sucks, because no it won't. It won't ever get better for me. What am I supposed to do with that?"

And that conversation leads to the first time Louis and Harry talk about Harry not wanting kids. It's startling, and it's disappointing, and the way Harry is so sure about it makes Louis want to cry. He wants to be a father. He wants to have kids with Harry. But Harry tells him that it'd be selfish, adopting kids when he has a disorder like his. 

"I'd miss so much," Harry says, frowning at Louis like he doesn't understand why Louis doesn't get it. "There are some days that I'm barely here. I'd be a terrible father."

"Harry -- "

"No, Louis. You seriously would trust someone like me with an infant?"

Louis looks at him like he's lost his mind. " _ Yes. _ "

"Then you really still don't get it," Harry mumbles, shaking his head. "I disappear in the middle of doing shit all the time, Louis. And what would happen if I switched while I was in the middle of giving them a bath? Or forget that I was supposed to feed them, thinking that I already did? Or what if they were doing something dangerous, and I'm not here and one of my littles is, and they, I don't know, decide to do that dangerous thing with them? Or just don't know any better to stop them?"

Louis just stares at him, unable to fight any of that. 

"Or what if I switch halfway through a car ride and forget they're with me?" Harry continues. "Then they'd be dead. And what if -- "

"There are people with D.I.D. who have kids, Harry."

"And I won't ever be one of them," Harry says sternly. "And I'm being serious, Louis. If that's, like, a deal-breaker, then you need to be honest with me about it now."

Of all the sacrifices Louis has ever had to make to be with Harry, this was probably the hardest one. But putting Harry in a position where he couldn't trust himself wasn't an option, so Louis told him no, it's not a deal-breaker. It's just a bit of a heart-breaker. 

-

Two years into living together, Louis comes home to a quiet flat. 

Recently, as Harry grows more comfortable around Louis, the flat, and with himself, he's spent more time outside of his room. Louis' grown used to coming home to find Harry or one of his alters sprawled out on the couch, doing something in the kitchen or stretched out on the floor, but he doesn't really think anything of it. He toes off his shoes, hangs up his coat, and heads to Harry's room. The bathroom door is shut, and Harry's room is vacant, so Louis knocks softly on the door and says that he's home. 

There's no response, and although some of Harry's alters aren't very fond of him, they rarely ignore him. He's paranoid, and he tries to tell himself not to be. The last time this happened, it was just Alison listening to music too loudly and painting her nails. It's probably that again, or some variation of that, but as he unlocks the door and pushes it open, he has a feeling it's not going to be as inconsequential as that. 

He's never seen a dead person before, but the body in the bathtub with red-tinted water up to its next looks very, very dead. 

As soon as Louis' eyes find blood as he tries to take everything in all at once, he immediately pulls his phone out of his back packet and dials the police. As he waits for them to pick up, he rushes over to Harry and finds too much pale flesh and closed eyes and a large gash dug into Harry's left wrist, pouring out too much blood. Too much fucking blood. Louis' fingers slide over his wrist as he tries to stop the bleeding, and his thoughts and hammering heart mixed with his heavy breathing --  _ Harry's _ not breathing enough, fuck, the rise and fall is barely there.

He barely manages to hear the voice talking to him over the phone, and when he finally does register it -- Harry's barely breathing, he's bleeding too much and by the looks of it, can't lose much more blood; fucking hell, how long has he been here? -- it's difficult to concentrate long enough to answer any questions. 

He manages the best he can, and there's a point at which the lady he's talking to doesn't need any more information from him, and it's quiet. Louis' hands are shaking, and he keeps clenching his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see how fucking dead he looks and then opening them because he needs to keep an eye on him. 

"Harry," he keeps saying, in whimpers and croaks and pleas, and there's never a response.

When the EMT's come, Louis feels numb and in a trance, and they ask him almost all the same questions that the phone operator did. Louis explains with blood caked on his hands and shirt that Harry has D.I.D., and yes, he's been suicidal before, and no, he hasn't shown any interest in harming himself lately, and yes, he's been in the mental hospital before, four separate times. They continue to ask him questions almost the entire time Louis' sitting in the front seat of the ambulance while there's hurried talking behind him about his fucking boyfriend's chances of survival, and his tongue feels too thick and his words come out shaky, but again, he manages.

When he calls Anne from the hospital and explains to her the situation, when he tells her that he's lost about forty-percent of his blood and his organs aren't in great shape, she is just as shocked as he is. 

"How was -- how was he this morning?" she asks, and Louis feels like she'd think he's a failure if he said  _ normal. _ Harry _ did _ seem normal though. He woke up a bit while Louis was getting ready for work, and he smiled into the kiss goodbye, and he texted Louis around noon reminding him to buy more toilet paper. "I talked to him around four, and he was fine, he was. . . he sounded fine, Louis."

"Something must've happened," Louis says unhelpfully. 

Anne sighs quietly. "Harry might've been fine, but that doesn't mean everybody else was." 

Louis shakes his head and closes his eyes. This has never felt like too much, but right now, Louis can't stop thinking that it has reached it's point. "His alters were formed to protect him, and yet one of them probably made him do this."

"It's more complicated than that, love. You know that."

And yeah, he does know that. And if he didn't already know that, seeing Harry wake up in a hospital bed, completely confused and scared because he  _ doesn't fucking remember _ would sure as hell be enough to prove that to him. Harry cries loudly, hand pressed tightly over the bandages on his wrist as if he can hide it, and Anne keeps hushing him and telling him that he's okay, that he's safe, and it does nothing. Louis is right there next to him, too, but Harry doesn't want either of them, he just wants to be home and in his bed, like he remembers being last. 

"I want to be normal," Harry sobs out, twisting in on himself. He turns to cry into his pillow, and Anne runs her fingers through his hair and promises him that they'll figure this out. 

"What's there to figure out, Mum?" Harry says. "He's just going to keep trying to hurt us, and I have no control over it, and I want -- God, I wish he was just fucking better at it, then." And Louis completely understands Harry's frustration over Jeremy sabotaging their system, but he's not going to sit back and allow him to say things like that.

Just as Louis starts to tell him that he shouldn't say that, Harry starts to slip away from them. Anne and Louis exchange a tired, knowing look and carefully remove their hands from him and Anne sits down, and they wait for someone new to take the front or for Harry to regain control. 

He doesn't. 

-

It takes a long time for Harry to recover from that suicide attempt. 

He spends forty-five days at a mental hospital where he has to put on high-risk suicide watch twice, and when he finally comes home to Louis, he's irritable and depressed and just. . . gone. Even when he's talking to Harry, it feels like Harry's so far away from him. Harry tells him one night that it's the most defeating, powerless feeling to have scars dug into his skin that he didn't put there, and when Louis tries to comfort him, Harry shakes him off. 

But he's also very clingy towards Louis, and it takes about a week of Harry pleading for him to stay home from work to realize that he's scared to be by himself.

"I don't want to hurt myself," Harry says, voice trembling, when Louis cautiously asks him if he's right. His bottom lip trembles, and he digs his teeth into it. "Jeremy's still really fucking pissed, and I don't -- if he comes while you're not here, I don't think I'm going to be alive much longer."

And that absolutely shatters Louis' already broken heart, and he wraps Harry up in his arms and squeezes him possibly too tight. He cries, too, which makes Harry feel so guilty that he gets all distant and quiet again. 

They make it through it, though. It takes about seventh months for Harry to regain his footing and to feel like his system of alters is in a safe space again, although the aftershocks of his system being in a very, very poor space for a long time still linger. It's to be expected, and it's nothing they can't handle, so Harry tries his best to be as calm about it as he can be. 

And Louis tries to not make this about him, but now whenever he comes home, he's always holding his breath and immediately checking on Harry. Harry doesn't mind it, he understands, and so do his other alters, too. Most of them, anyway. 

-

Harry isn't frail, and he's not a threat, and he's as much of a human as anyone else is. He struggles, yes, but so does everyone else. He's not anything special; at least, he doesn't want to be for the wrong reasons. He's just Harry, except for when he's not, and that's okay. It has to be, because Harry can’t remember a time where it’s been any different, and it’s not going to change for the rest of his life. 

As he carves out his own space in the world, though, the defeat he feels isn’t so crippling; Louis’ love reminds him that he’s worthy of it, and it gives him hope. Working in the same office space as Louis as a receptionist gives him some independence and something to look forward to. It pushes him out of his comfort zone while also keeping him secure, because if anything goes wrong, Louis is right there to help him. When they get married, the wedding band protecting his ring finger keeps him grounded. Each time something positive happens to him, he keeps it close to heart as a defense against any bad that tries to get to him. He creates his own armor, which keeps him and his alters as safe as possible. He’s not unstoppable, and he never will be, but he won’t ever give up, not when there are so many reasons as to why he shouldn’t. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to learn more about D.I.D., i recommend watching DissociaDID on youtube. she makes a lot of easy to understand content on it. if anything about my description of D.I.D. is inaccurate, i apologize. i tried my hardest to research about it :)
> 
> thank you for reading xx


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